


Ocean Waves

by Phosphorite



Series: wind, waves & an ocean at our feet [3]
Category: Free!
Genre: Angst, Australia, Canon Compliant, Friendship, Getting Back Together, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-18
Updated: 2016-03-19
Packaged: 2018-05-02 06:25:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5237777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phosphorite/pseuds/Phosphorite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If you could go back in time to the person you were back when all this started, knowing what you know now... Would you take back anything? Regret anything? Or simply reach out for a chance to relive it all, and never change a single thing?</p><p>(Because some things in life, they need to end before they can begin.)</p><p>[sequel to Wind Waves, rating to go up in the future]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hey.
> 
> It's been almost a year since Wind Waves ended. At the time, I honestly wasn't sure if it _needed_ a sequel; I still feel like Eternal Summer works directly as a canonical companion to that story. However, to say I never wanted to write one would be lying. I just needed to take some time off to work on _how_ , exactly, the sequel could come to exist.
> 
> The reason it's been a year is because I have written and rewritten parts of Ocean Waves a hundred times over, until I finally realized why it wouldn't click. Because there is no reason for me to write another story like Wind Waves - I _cannot_ write another story like Wind Waves. We all know what happens in Eternal Summer; how Rin and Haruka and all their friends gradually develop towards their future, and are forced to make a choice. To repeat that story was not what I wanted to do.
> 
> So I won't.
> 
> This is the story of everything that happened between the gaps, of all the things that went unsaid, had Eternal Summer actually been a sequel to Wind Waves. Parts of it were written in Iwami, as well as in Sydney, Room 25 at the Russell Hotel; some of the dialogue I've come up with in Tottori, some at Milsons Point. I have literally travelled halfway across the world after these idiots, which is why Ocean Waves as a whole will probably be my one final love letter to Free! before it’s time to move on. 
> 
> It's only fitting; after all, this is a story about dreams.
> 
> For everyone who wants to follow mine, I thank you, and hope you enjoy your time.

 

 

 

 

 Prologue; or, a prelude

 

 

  

_Do you think we could be a team again…? You know… you and me._

_It’s that simple?_

_(It’s….)_

_I just wanted to know if you still liked hanging out with that dumb kid, back from when we were twelve._

_Does that even make sense?_

_(It makes...)_

_Well, what I wished for was fortitude._

_You know?_

_(For the...)_

_Hey..._

_Sometimes I just wish that you could see yourself_

_(the way I've always...)_

_But talking never came easy to you_

_and I never listen to you when you do_

_and every inch of me still wants you more than anything I've ever wanted before, but I can’t can’t can’t can’t do this anymore––_

_(Then maybe we shouldn’t be together anymore)_

 

 

 

_The sound of crashing waves._

_He opened his eyes. All around him the air stood hot and dry, merging with the song of the cicadas. The field of grass looked as though it could stretch out forever, spanning the horizon in a wavering sea of gold and green; in the glare of the sunlight he pushed up his hand, hovering it towards the sky._

_"You shouldn't stare directly into the sun. You might lose your sight."_

_Turning his head, he let his arm fall._

_She hadn't been looking at him as she spoke. An armful of pink and purple flowers tickled her chin where she turned, pushing back up to her feet. When the sun shifted behind her, he realized he could not see her face._

_"Can you hear that?"_

_At her nod, he followed the direction of her gaze far beyond the sea of grass. Something soft and warm touched his feet, digging all the way up to his ankles, swarming over his toes; when he yanked his head back up, the strips of grass had melted into an open sea. Past the foam and the salt, across the water swirling in the wind–– he could feel, rather than hear it: a sound of the waves, rolling in like a storm._

_"I know you can hear that," she said, the waves rocking back and forth up to her feet._

_In the reflection of the sea her flowers had turned blue._

_Hear what, he wanted to ask her, but a cry of seagulls pierced the air when she spoke, and the rest of her words were lost in the rumbling of the sea._

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What you see is never what you're gonna get.
> 
> That hasn't changed.
> 
> Next time on the swimming hell channel: Haneda International Airport, Tokyo, Japan.


	2. Haneda International Airport, Japan

 

 

 

_Here._

He woke up to a low hum, seconds before his heart picked up the sync of the engine.

Something soft nudged at his shoulder, softly sliding down his arm. A head of dark hair, lolling over when the bus took an unexpected turn; _nhmh_ it muttered against his shirt, like a snapshot of a scene he'd lived through less than a year ago, in a place far from here.

On muscle memory, Rin found himself shifting his arm. Just as intuitively, Haruka’s head corrected itself on his shoulder, as if there was a part of him that clung to Rin’s warmth even in his sleep. As the darkness beyond his window caught them in a glare of passing headlights, Rin felt the last of his drowsiness dissolve.

_Iwatobi. Osaka. Tokyo._

In three, four deep breaths the present slowly returned. The low light of an airport shuttle, the long shadows outside his window – they were the details of transit, a blur since the moment he had set foot outside a silent house, and pulled out a boy who did and did not feel like the Nanase Haruka he had known 'till today.

“Nhnh,” Haruka’s voice spoke against his arm again, and Rin closed his eyes.

Was there any way of knowing if he wasn't still stuck inside a dream?

To tell where one ended and another begun... no, bizarre as it felt, all of this was real: from Haruka’s doorstep to the calm announcement of the shuttle approaching the international terminal, the weight of Haruka's head was as real as this whole nonsensical plan Rin had hatched up, fuelled by weeks of frustration and then – a single moment of clarity.

(Six months of adrenaline, until a moment of madness:

 _If you refuse to listen, then you don't need to listen. All you need to do is see._ )

“…Rin,” the sound finally materialized through a mumbled attempt to call out his name, and Haruka’s head yanked back in a sleepy tilt. “…How much longer?”

 _I don’t know_ , Rin wanted to respond on instinct, feeling the lines between the past and the present blur like the lights stretching out in the darkness; winding and entwining, between the life he had chosen, and the one he no longer lived.

In the end, all that came out was, “I’ll let you know when we’re there.”

It hadn't always been this way.

 

*

 

_New Year._

_The crispness of Winter. A dark sky, spreading overhead by the beach. Laughter, whispers, a row of tiny little lights leading up the stairs of the shrine._

_"Ah... Gou-chan! Rin-chan, you came!"_

_He felt his sister's hand growing tighter on his arm, a lightness in her smile that greeted their friends where his tongue failed to speak. When she beamed up excitedly, not a trace in her voice implied something was amiss._

_"Of course we came!" Gou smiled, "It's almost midnight, right?"_

_"We weren't sure if Rin-chan––" Nagisa began, but a gentle shove rendered him silent. Tugging down on his scarf, Rei addressed Rin and Gou both with a tilt of his head._

_"You still have time to buy omamori," he cut in, "If you want."_

_No 'It's been a while's_ , _no awkward laughter. With a breath of relief, Rin knew Rei didn't miss his look of gratitude, any more than he made a display of it. A month and a half was... not a long time, really, but long enough to stall Rin with familiar embarrassment; still, at Rei's ease he finally found it possible to return the nod._

_"Makoto-senpai should be back in a minute," Rei explained, with a gesture that could have implied anything from a quick errand to being called away by parents, "As for Haruka-senpai... He already went on ahead."_

_This time, it was Rin who didn't miss the way Nagisa and Rei exchanged glances, like they had done a thousand times before. Something about the moment felt... like another throwback, a cycle that was about to repeat itself, but he broke through it once Gou's hand left his._

_"How about that omamori, then?" she said, beckoning at Nagisa, "Nagisa-kun should help me pick one out. Oniichan, we'll be right over afterwards, alright?"_

_It wasn't meant to be subtle, and Rin knew._

_After all, what point would there have been; they all knew Makoto's invitation to attend the shrine at New Year's was nothing short of an attempt at catharsis, like a spiritual cleanse to end the weeks of silence since November. Rin hadn't meant for it to linger, but between practice and school and the stagnated days, he'd never really known how to–– what to–– when to––_

_"Alright," he heard himself repeat, and the step he took forward felt lighter than he'd feared._

_By the shrine, there was a path that led further along the cliff towards another lookout point. Away from the gathering crowds, beyond the bustling omamori stand, looking towards the sea – even before a nearby torch threw a second silhouette in his path, Rin knew where he was headed, and exactly what he'd come to find._

_He felt a set of snowflakes slowly descend from the sky. Two of them landed on his cheek, and the moment Rin lifted his hand to brush them off, Haruka's head turned in his direction._

_..A month and a half._

_How does time pass so fast, and yet so slow, all at once?_

_Compared to four years, it should have been nothing, and yet; how many nights had blurred into forgettable mornings, when he couldn't choose between a humiliating wish_ (I need to see him I need to see him I just need to _see him_ ) _, or the resulting regret_ (this shouldn’t have we never should have none of this ever should have come to pass) _––_

_––but for what?_

_Because none of it ever made it any easier, none of it ever changed that chokehold into calm, none of it prepared him for the moment when a message lit up his phone and requested Rin join everyone at the shrine for New Year’s Eve._

You have to talk about this sometime.

_It was what Makoto had said one evening in December, with an exhausted voice. But there had never been a right moment. Not with the endless hours of practice, drowning those voices like he'd drowned his heart, until one morning Rin woke up to feel absolutely nothing at all._

_And yet, holding Haruka's gaze in silence now, for the first time in weeks... he felt something;_

_(or a lot of somethings,_

_unlocking inside his solitude, buried at the back of his mind)_

_"Rin," he heard Haruka speaking out softly, and Rin felt each muscle in his chest simultaneously tense and unwind._

 

*

"Rin."

He blinked, the glare of an artificial light hitting him in the face.

"Rin," Haruka said again, "You're in the way."

On instinct, Rin gave a start. A family of four pushed past him down the entrance; for a moment something had stalled his step, as if realizing that looking back on this moment, from here on out these would be the things Haruka would come to remember.

The pale light of the departure lobby. The warmth of Summer that followed them inside. Observing the light twitch of Haruka’s brow as his eyes trailed the escalators upstairs, everything here must have felt more alien than the second before. It had felt the same way to Rin too, so many years ago; Haruka’s parents may have forced a passport on him once upon a time, but his childhood photo wasn't as worn-out as Rin’s own.

With his back towards Rin on the step above, it was hard to tell what kind of expression Haruka now held. The words at the entrance must have been the longest sentence he had spoken since this morning, but whether this was something Rin ought to regard with relief, he couldn't say. Up until now, he'd been running on pure momentum, on the triumph of having coaxed Haruka into leaving his house; but the _reality_ was starting to feel stranger by the minute, with the sound of his footsteps approaching the check-in counter, hundreds of miles from home.

"And where are you headed tonight?" the lady greeted him politely, accepting the travel documents Rin slid over the counter. Her eyes lit up as the reservation appeared on her computer screen. "Ah, two for Sydney, yes? Will that be your final destination on this trip?"

Rin swallowed, feeling the weight of Haruka's stare down his back. "Yeah."

The _are you carrying anything liquid or dangerous in your hand-luggage_ waded past his consciousness along to Haruka's absent-minded stare. In some ways it made everything easier, but that listlessness also made the restlessness in Rin's heart worse; since Iwatobi, since the moment Rin had pushed Haruka on a coach towards the airport, the question he had been waiting for never came.

_Why are we here?_

The words still hadn't passed Haruka's lips, not yet; but sooner or later they would, and all Rin could do was to pretend he was ready for when they did.

(Ready to ask himself if he really knew, either – because from here on out everything about Haruka would be his responsibility, his to support, and his to break.)

"Please enjoy your time in Australia!" the lady at the counter quipped after handing out their boarding passes, and Rin didn't mean to wince but he sort of did.

"Come on," he sighed, gesturing at Haruka's silence. "After we pass security, I need to buy some souvenirs."

Another blank stare.

 _I hate this_ , Rin couldn't help but think, but he wasn't sure which part of it he really meant.

 

*

 

I hate this.

_The thought infiltrated his every thought, dulling the sounds of the shrine. The flame of the torch kept dancing in the light breeze, shadow after shadow undulating like a wave._

_"Hey," Rin heard himself say, a knee-jerk reaction to cut the silence short._

_Haruka's own instinct was to glance away. When his eyes flicked back at Rin, the snow continued to fall behind him, and the shadows continued to sway._

There's nothing weird about this, _the rational side of Rin insisted. Nothing awkward, or even absurd; after a month and a half of building myths around their break-up, nothing about this moment was ultimately larger than life._

_Maybe it should have felt like a disappointment. Maybe it should have been a relief._

_Maybe all it really was, was inevitable._

_"The others–– they said Makoto should be back soon. You want to head back to the shrine?"_

_Whose words were these?_

_Who was the boy who tilted his head, softened his eyes, and cast Haruka a disarming smile? None of it came with feigned friendliness, and yet... it felt like a version of Rin that spoke on his behalf, a creature of kindness, someone with a hardened soul; someone who still remembered the promise he'd spoken on a morning in November, standing by the side of the road._

We're not going to change.

_Maybe it was the same Rin who spoke then, who found it so easy to speak now. To hold Haruka's gaze, and not feel like screaming – like he had done time and time again, from trespassing at old swimming clubs to the clatter of a level crossing when they were twelve._

But I won't force you through another painful reunion again.

 _Haruka might not have replied with anything more than a nod, but this time Rin meant it; because he couldn't take back what had happened any more than he could make things_ normal _, but he'd wasted enough time on self-deprecation over the past four years to let this cycle repeat itself again. After all, this–– their friendship, their_ rivalry _, all of it meant so much more than any hormonal teenage frenzy, and he'd be damned if he allowed it to––_

_"...I'm glad, Rin."_

_The breath in his lungs came to a jagged halt._

_Haruka wasn't looking at him anymore, a strand of dark hair concealing his eyes. Shoulders hunched, he had barely moved since Rin approached him, and when Rin took a closer look in the dark, he could tell Haruka's hands were... trembling._

_"I'm," Haruka began again, and as he turned his head there was a trace of something on his face; a locked jaw, a chafed lip, a hoarse swallow. "Glad that you came."_

_On that Winter's day at the level crossing, Rin hadn't screamed._

_On that night at the old swimming club, he hadn't screamed either._

_But on the eve of New Year, listening to the waves rolling to the shore, there were red marks on his palms where Rin's nails dug into his skin; a momentary lapse, a bout of regret, that never made it past his lips––_

(I love you

I love you

I love you

and I hate everything about _this_ )

–– _but for what?_

_Both of them knew it was too late._

I hate this _, Rin thought again._

_"We should go," was what he said._

 

*

 

"Why do I have to do it?"

The teenage girl on the other side of the aisle must have sported an exasperated face, because her mother took a deep breath.

"Minako-chan," she said, matter-of-factly, "I need to go to the toilet and do some souvenir shopping. You're old enough to look after your twin brothers for a good half an hour, alright?"

From the corner of his eye, Rin watched the teenage girl let out a _harrumph_ , theatrically shoving tiny buds into her ears before pressing _play_ on her iPod. Next to her, a pair of toddlers continued to play with their toys.

Next to Rin, Haruka seemed just as oblivious to the world. For some twenty minutes they had been sitting in silence, the departure lounge slowly filling up with people waiting for their night-flight to Sydney; Rin hadn't tried to engage Haruka in a conversation again, because there didn't seem to be much to say. All Haruka had done was stare at his phone, but the person he was waiting for never lit up the screen.

"You want anything before we board?" Rin hazarded, and with a shake of his head Haruka shifted to stare at his feet.

Looking back, it now felt like irony. _Regardless of what happens, Haru will be fine with you,_ was what Makoto had said the last he and Rin had spoken, but neither one of them had expected _this_ ; while Rin still wasn't sure what exactly had happened the night before, he had seen enough lifeless reflections to know when Haruka was simply lost in his own world, and when he was literally coming apart at the seams.

Even to Rin, being cut off from Makoto felt like–– a severed lifeline, like something about the universe just didn't make _sense_. It was part of the whole reason they were doing this to begin with, and yet...

 _Everything here_ , Rin thought, _feels like one gigantic mess_.

"Taro-chan––! Come on, stop trying to pull away from me!"

The teenage girl had abandoned her ear-buds to stop one of her brothers from toppling over the seats. Watching her helpless babysitting distracted Rin enough to feel both cynical and sympathetic on her behalf: cynical, because she was childish to resent the circumstances, sympathetic, because she must have felt as lost as he did right now.

When the girl lifted her head, their eyes met.

Without missing a beat, her gaze flicked over to Haruka, then back at Rin. In passing, he couldn't help wondering about the impression that had crossed her mind; did they come across as brothers? Perhaps friends?

Or simply two strangers, who happened to share adjacent seats?

It didn't occur to Rin until now that for months, he hadn't really known, either.

 

*

 

_Something about the darkness that hit him at five thirty in the morning was strangely familiar._

_Soft shadows, flooding over to where he saw a silhouette shift, right before a ruffled head pushed over the side of the top bed. Even through an otherwise sleepy voice, the voice that cut the silence was concerned._

_"...Rin-senpai," it said, "Did... did you have another nightmare?"_

_He drew in a deep breath._

_It's funny, how things change. There had been a time when his roommate could have slept through anything from fire alarms to a night-time identity crisis, but the past few months had successfully turned Nitori into a light sleeper._

_Sometimes Rin would pretend like he hadn't even awoken. Sometimes, he'd come up with a feeble excuse. Sometimes –on the nights when it was useless to pretend like the weight of emotional stress hadn't spilled into his subconscious– he'd simply swallow his pride, and silently ask Nitori to go back to sleep._

_"...I'm fine," Rin finally said, watching Nitori's shadow shift with something guarded. "I needed to get up early anyway. The Captain wanted to talk to me about something before the sendoff race."_

_"Are you sure?" Nitori's voice trailed off, but he sounded even sleepier than before._

_"I'm gonna go warm up," was all Rin answered, pushing his legs off the side of the bed._

_The floor beneath his feet felt like reality, but his mind still flickered like the lamp that refused to turn on. All Winter he had grown accustomed to dealing with a restless heart through nightmares, chasing after a cacophony of absurd images, the way he always did as a child. Of course, it had been naïve to think Nitori hadn't known to predict this since the day Rin had circled a date on their calendar and written_ Iwatobi SC _underneath the words_ Hundred Races Event.

_But it didn't matter. A quick swim should help clear any remaining uneasiness, dispelling the weird weight that held him down. In less than two hours the morning sun would dawn, and he had been summoned to have a word with Mikoshiba before the rest of their team were to arrive; if anything, he did not want to confront the Captain while mentally light-years away._

_He inhaled deeply, then took another step forward. In the half-shadows of the locker room he could feel Mikoshiba’s voice, merging with Makoto’s voicemails and Nitori’s sleepy concern._

Before the sendoff race. _(You have to talk to someone eventually)_ Before Iwatobi arrives. _(Just another nightmare)_ We need to talk about something important. _(Rin-senpai, are you sure you’re…)_ Don’t look so startled, Matsuoka. It was always just a matter of time.

_The water silenced each voice, clinging to his skin like a protective gauze._

_In the end,_ none _of it mattered._

_The only thing that ever did, was this – what was here, what was now, and where he was headed. For months he had learnt to perfect his stance, his poise, his unwavering determination; today would become no different from all the other times he had worn his rehearsed smiles, and be the person everyone expected him to be._

_(No, the person he’d promised Haruka he would be, to move onwards without regret;_

_because no regret would keep the world from turning, or stop what was on its way.)_

_"Ah, Matsuoka. I had a feeling I'd already find you here."_

_By six a.m. the poolside was bathed in an orange glow, throwing shadows at Mikoshiba's feet. As he pulled back to the surface, what stung in Rin's lungs was chlorine, and the echo of Mikoshiba's foreboding voice._

_"You–– you wanted to talk about something," Rin coughed up on reflex, pushing a pair of goggles off his face. Lately, he'd often found the captain observing his practice, but there was something different about Mikoshiba's aura today._

_"I do," Mikoshiba said, stretching out the back of his arm. "There's... well, I wanted you to know before the rest of the team did. Given the circumstances, and how predictable that self-consciousness of yours is... well, I thought it was only fair."_

_When he glanced back at Rin, there was something altogether quizzical yet focused about his look._

_"But before that... How about we have a little race?"_

 

*

 

"Alright, Minako-chan, I'm back! Did you have a hard time with the twins?"

The teenage girl let out a long sigh. Pulling one toddler in her lap, her arm was wrapped around the other like a human seatbelt, and the sight was so comical it made her mother laugh. "Alright, alright, next time I won't leave my shopping so late. I know they're not your responsibility, but mine."

It was so easy to forget himself in observing other people, that the softness of Haruka's voice nearly gave Rin a start.

"...Is this really alright?"

Glancing back, he found Haruka unusually alert. There was something alive in his eyes for the first time in hours, hidden behind the muted blue; whatever had prompted him to speak up, it left Rin so taken aback that Haruka had to gesture at the crowded lounge.

"...Going abroad, right before the competition," he calmly went on, "...You are the captain of Samezuka, after all."

_Oh._

Loaded as Haruka's question was, it made perfect sense. Perhaps it was the family across the aisle, reminding him of everything that would come to remain on this side of the _Now boarding_ sign – it was easy for Haruka to fight with his friends or make anarchistic choices in the heat of a contest, but Rin wasn't only responsible for himself anymore.

"That's..." Rin began, feeling his voice falter regardless of how many times he had run this thought through.

No, _everyone_ on their team was on a well-deserved break. He didn't have to be _available_ all the time. It was only a couple of days, someone could easily cover for him for a while. These were all things Rin had told himself, knowing any logic still sounded like excuses in his head; after all, would Captain Mikoshiba have used such excuses, too, for a chance to pursue his selfish dreams?

(Then again, all of this was exactly what Captain Mikoshiba must have seen coming, the day he had appointed Rin as the team's leader.)

"It's fine," Rin heard himself say, with a cheerfulness that did not entirely sound like his own. It wasn't really on purpose; the rarity of Haruka actually initiating conversation was simply throwing him off his game. "Everyone's on holiday, anyway. If I wasn't here, I would have just gone home with Sousuke."

For the briefest of seconds, Rin could have sworn a muscle in Haruka's jaw tensed, and his entire posture slumped.

"...Do they know?" Haruka said, more silent this time. "Your... does your family know?"

It seemed like an honest question, but something about Haruka's tone was off. All it took was a sharp glance, one Haruka must not have realized Rin noticed, for him to understand.

_You mean, does Sousuke know._

"Haru," he said unable to stifle the defensiveness in his voice, but Haruka wasn't looking at him anymore; the moment passed as quickly as it had come, and before Rin knew it, Haruka was lost in that same old shroud of glassy stares, blocking out everything and anything that wasn't Makoto's voice.

Rin closed his eyes, counting to ten, then hundred.

So far, the list of topics that were off-limits seemed to include: Makoto, Rei, Nagisa, showers, onigiri, fire-extinguishers, Nitori's t-shirts, spoons, wood carvings, Famima, scotch tape, and whatever else appeared to strike a nerve with Haruka. Throwing Sousuke at the end of that list shouldn't have been a problem, really, but having to axe Rin's best friend from his vocabulary was starting to feel like the proverbial straw on the already-exhausted camel's back.

 _If you refuse to talk about what's wrong_ , he wanted to growl, _Then how the hell can I help you?!_

The apathy, the contempt and the silence – as patient as Rin tried to will himself, somehow it never got easier trying to deal with this side of Haruka, knowing there was absolutely no way to win. Here Rin was, about to drag him to the other side of the globe, when even the slightest wrong word could set Haruka on edge; was he a complete idiot for thinking any of this could work, that _Rin_ could work, that there was anything he could ever say or do to help Haruka find his––

"Oh, come on Minako-chan, I _know_ you heard that!!"

In his peripheral vision Rin saw the mother of the teenage girl point at the toddler who had started crying. It shouldn't have caught his attention in the first place, but as the mother's voice shot through the cacophony of his thoughts, Rin came to a sudden halt.

"...Rin?" Haruka muttered, alarmed by the sudden tension in Rin's shoulders; because through the agitation, the helplessness, all at once Rin _remembered_.

(like a fragment of someone’s memories, like a moment yet to come to pass)

...A woman in a dream he'd had, the sound of faraway thunder, and the waves crashing at their feet.

_I know you can hear that._

"Rin," Haruka said again, a little louder, but whatever Rin may have wanted to respond was lost in an airline announcement: their plane would now begin boarding, and as the mother of three stood up with her children, Rin sat perfectly still, listening to the baby cry.

It pulled him back, pulled him down, cleared out the last remaining fog inside Rin's mind.

"...Sorry," he finally said, reaching up and holding out a hand on instinct. "...I guess we'll be boarding now, so just... follow me, alright?"

It was Haruka's turn to say nothing.

He proceeded to say nothing, but the fingers that closed around Rin's wrist still said, _alright_.

Six months of adrenaline, and a moment of madness. No... as they leaned in to queue for the gate, Rin knew what they would walk out on was a madness much older than that, like a string of nightmares he had carried by his side for years. He couldn't say how he knew this; just that he did, like a distant rumble, growing louder in his ears when he closed his eyes.

 _I know I can hear that_ , Rin thought with a deep breath, _One way or the other, this is where it ends._

The touch on his wrist grew stronger, and as Haruka's fingertips found his pulse, for those passing heartbeats the echo of Rin's dream burned a little brighter.

 _No_ , he thought again.

_This is where it begins._

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time on the same swimming hell channel: Past and present, somewhere above the Pacific Ocean.


	3. Past and present, somewhere above the Pacific Ocean

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rumours of my death have been greatly exaggerated. I am, however, still ridiculously busy with life.
> 
> I'd say next the next update will be faster, but I don't know if that's really true. So I guess we'll see. To anyone who might still be reading it: thank you. I hope to make it worth your while too.

 

 

 

_On their way home, neither one of them spoke._

_Sometimes, silences such as this one were part of a tacit agreement, one they had crafted since childhood. But today, Makoto wasn't quiet just for the sake of granting space. A light furrow on his brow revealed Makoto was thinking, unusually lost in his own world, and it felt... off._

_A lot of things did, these days. It almost felt like living in two dimensions at once, overlapping like frames of a broken tape; mornings when he woke up and felt no different than his first year of high school, and mornings when a strange emptiness in his stomach reminded Haruka that it was his final one._

_The look Makoto cast from the corner of his eye, of course Haruka caught it. There was a cherry blossom petal stuck to the side of Makoto's collar, and as they walked along the portside, a puddle of already receding rain trailed each step._

You guys haven't even decided yet.

_Maybe they both heard it._

_Maybe they both remembered the echo of Rin's voice, caught in a downpour, listening to the sound of raindrops pattering against the pool. Or maybe it was just Haruka; because there had been annoyance, even frustration in those words, but all Haruka could remember was Rin's determination to not waste any more time._

_Time, time, time._

_At the race today–– back at the locker rooms, he'd found Rin waiting. Heard Rin talking, in that carefree way that still left Haruka's instincts on guard; but as the they'd walked down the hall (heard the children laughing, boasting like the entire world was theirs to reach), for those passing seconds Haruka knew he had smiled._

_Months and weeks and days and hours, until all that mattered were the seconds. On land or in the water, everyone was always talking about time._

_They said they'd broken some kind of record together._

_They said Haruka had been full of fire._

_They said, they said..._

_(You said you're running out of time)_

_The air tasted salty on his tongue, even in the wake of a Summer rain._

_"...So," Makoto finally spoke, preceding the words with a tentative laugh, "Today, with the cherry blossoms–– it was fun, wasn't it?"_

_Haruka turned his head away._

 

*

 

"Have you decided yet?"

Haruka flinched. As his eyes darted to the right, he was met with Rin's curious gaze. "You know, what you're going to eat."

With a nod, Rin beckoned at the paper slip in Haruka's hand.

_TOKYO TO AUSTRALIA_

_Welcome drink: Bickford's signature range since 1874_

_DINNER_

_Barbecue beef with sautéed onions, red capsicum, broccoli, green beans and turmeric rice_

_Grilled salmon with yuzu sauce, fried tofu, spinach, sesame seeds and rice_

_Roast chicken and farro salad with cauliflower and wholegrain mustard dressing_

A shadow moved over Haruka's list, accompanied by the low murmur of Rin's voice somewhere near Haruka's ear.

"Let me guess... The salmon, right? Too bad we can't make use of that welcome drink, huh."

Intuitively, Haruka choked his swallow down.

It didn't appear Rin had been expecting a response, though, leaning back to his own seat. "The menu makes everything sound fancy, doesn't it?" he laughed, "Panna cotta with strawberry compote for dessert... Egg congee with chicken, sautéed celtuce, ginger and shimeji mushrooms for breakfast... You ever had panna cotta before, Haru?"

"No," Haruka muttered, the sound of the engines concealing whatever his breath did not. Half of the words coming out of Rin's mouth hadn't made much sense, but then, little about their situation did.

This morning... this morning, he'd had been at home, hadn't he? In his own bed, in his grandmother's house. This morning he had been in Iwatobi, and right at this moment –around eleven in the evening, give or take– he was some thousands of feet above a pitch black sky. And yet... here he sat with a bilingual airplane menu in his hands, like it was perfectly normal for Nanase Haruka to contemplate which _amenities_ he liked best – like he knew what the word _a-me-ni-ty_ even meant.

"It won't be as impressive on the plate, though," Rin shrugged, slipping his menu in the seat pocket in front of him, "We'd have to sit in business class to get the really good food. But I suppose the Australians don't want me scouted quite _that_ much."

Finishing with laughter, it was obvious Rin missed the start Haruka's shoulders gave at his joke. Economy or not, if the Australians were persistent enough to court Rin with a second plane ticket, it left no questions about the proposal – Rin hadn't left for Sydney just on a pre-paid trip, but to make a choice that defined his future away from everything back home.

_But you always knew that, though._

Once more, Haruka swallowed his unease down.

"Oh, you should really check out the in-flight entertainment selection." Rin pushed over to Haruka's side, tapping on the display attached to the seat ahead. "The plane we're on now seems a little outdated, but they should have some pretty recent films. You can watch while you eat, or––"

The look Haruka shot him must have been sharp enough to say what Haruka did not, because Rin recoiled at once. "Alright, alright. I get it, _you_ get it. Sorry."

Haruka hadn't... meant it quite that way, but the truth was that he also couldn't decide how to feel about Rin's carefree tone. Throughout their journey, Rin had sported an unusual energy, one that both did and did not seem like his own; like he was trying far too hard to act casual in front of Haruka, gauging each mood-shift, whenever something about the moment set Haruka off.

But the _Why are you doing this_ never materialized in words, no more than did the frustrated _I want you to just stop_ , because on one hand Haruka didn't want to hear Rin's answer, and on the other, well...

"I think I'll try the beef, myself," he heard Rin's murmur, so casual and out of place all at once.

Turning his head to the window, Haruka spent a good few minutes just staring at the sky. The lights had long since disappeared from sight, leaving only a deepening night ahead; from here on out, there would be nothing besides Rin binding Haruka to his real life, not since he had walked through boarding and turned off his phone.

No, not that, but––

(since the moment his best friend's fingers had unfastened around his wrist, since the person before Haruka had stopped being _his_ Makoto)

_Wasn't this what you wanted?_ a small voice in his head pushed through the hum of the engines, _For everyone to just leave you alone?_

He closed his eyes, but the humming would not stop.

 

*

_"You've been drawing more lately."_

_The hand holding the pen slowed down. On the other side of the table, Haruka met Makoto's gaze._

_"Since the old swimming club reopened. I noticed you started drawing more often."_

_Haruka's eyes flicked back to the paper, and a swift line appeared under the tip of his pencil. He knew the tone of voice Makoto had chosen; it had been a while since Haruka had last heard it, but it could hardly be a coincidence after yesterday's public tournament with Samezuka._

_With Rin._

_He knew Makoto wouldn't say it directly. He rarely did. The question simply hung there, in each unvoiced syllable, but two could play this game; feigning ignorance, both of them sat in silence until Makoto gave in._

_"...Well, it was just a thought," he finally said._

_Haruka continued to draw._

_When Makoto's head craned over to catch a glimpse of the sketch, Haruka didn't mind. Anyone else would have caught a glare instead, but Haruka had never felt bothered showing Makoto his work in progress._

_"...An ocean," Makoto noted, sounding neither disappointed nor surprised at the pooling waves._

_"...You must be really looking forward to it, huh?" he went on, "Swimming in the ocean, I mean. You even set your phone's message tone as the crashing sea."_

_As if he'd suddenly remembered something, Makoto paused._

_"Come to think of it," he mused, "Didn't your old one use to be..."_

_Haruka's hand came to an abrupt halt._

_This time, a look of genuine surprise passed on Makoto's face as Haruka reached up, all the way to his feet._

_Moving across the room, it took him a single tug of the screen door to flood the room with April wind; the rains of yesterday had long since cleared, but the sharpness of the air nearly stung._

_"Haru?"_

_There was another kind of concern in Makoto's voice, calling out to Haruka's back._

_"...Haru? Is everything alright?"_

_Somewhere beyond the hill the cherry blossoms still swayed._

_Closing his eyes, Haruka could almost hear the rustle of leaves, a hum in the place of the one sound he had expected to hear since yesterday. No... ever since the Hundred races event, he'd waited for it to return; maybe, if he just concentrated hard enough, he'd catch it at practice, at a tournament, after racing Rin._

_Whatever he'd heard back then, it should have been there._

_Whatever he'd felt back then, it should have been there._

_Whatever that link was, still holding their lives together (after Rin's fingers lingered against his hand, in the wake of their record breaking time), it was supposed to  b e  t h e r e;_

_but it wasn't._

_Even on the nights Haruka left his window open, there was only that same old hum, running through his ears like a static pause; one so overpowering he sometimes could have screamed––_

(I miss you

I miss you

and I hate everything about this)

–– _but for what?_

_He never heard another chime._

_Rin would leave anyway; it didn't matter anymore, because both of them were out of time._

_Turning around, Haruka glanced at Makoto, letting his touch linger at the door._

_"Sorry," he said, "But I don't remember anymore."_

 

*

 

In the dim light of the cabin, he could sense the shifts of Rin's display flickering on his arm.

Rin was watching a film, but Haruka couldn't guess what it was about. A man in a green hoodie would go from one scene to another either looking like the village idiot, then a calculating genius the next. Every so often the side of Rin's mouth would curve upwards, his brow wrinkling in thought, and it wasn't long until Haruka realized that observing his face was far more entertaining than Haruka's own lukewarm comedy show.

It had been a while since he'd had the chance to do this. To sit here, just watching Rin, to feel like––

( _don't_

_go there_ )

At the sudden jolt of Haruka's shoulders, Rin finally noticed.

"Huh? Is something wrong?"

Haruka shook his head, trying to come up with a suitable lie. "No, just... this program is no good."

The normality of Haruka's response must have caught Rin by surprise, because it made him pull his earphones down. Gesturing at the screen, the moment seemed like a window for conversation Rin did not want to miss.

"Yeah, well, mine isn't that good either," he said, "It was supposed to be a comedy about a North Korean spy, but things... well, they're getting kinda dark towards the end."

Whether it was the minutes spent staring at Rin, or just the fear of having him find out, Haruka's response came almost as casual in tone. "...That must be annoying. Going into a story and expecting it to be fun, and then getting something completely else."

Rin let out a laugh. "I guess so. I mean, I just like happy endings more. Sousuke always says it makes my films too predictable to watch."

It might have been predictable, too, the way Haruka's fingers tightened around the blanket on his lap. Rin definitely did not miss this either; and just like that time at the waiting lounge, something unyielding settled in his eyes.

On reflex, Haruka glanced away, but Rin's tone pinned him down.

"...Look, Haru. I know you don't–– like each other. That's fine. But Sousuke's my best friend. I'm not just going to pretend he doesn't exist."

"...I don't care," Haruka muttered. His fingers never unfastened on the blanket though, and Rin let out a sigh.

"H, hey. I didn't..."

There was a pause before Rin leaned over to talk, concealing his words in a more hushed tone. "Look, you're my friend too, okay? It's not like I enjoy the two of you not getting along."

As Rin went on, he sounded almost infuriatingly amicable, like something straight out of a Captain's handbook. "But until you try to actually, you know, talk it out together, it's impossible for me to take sides."

Haruka grit his teeth together. This whole act about staying impersonal might work on Rin's teammates, but Haruka wasn't that kind of _friend_ ; the more Rin tried to treat him as one, the more it only grated on Haruka's pride.

"I. Don't. Care," he repeated, but the edge in his voice must have given him away. Suddenly there was alertness in Rin's gaze, and a different kind of caution when his brow wrinkled in a frown.

"...Haru? Is everything..."

Flustered, for the first time since the airport lounge Rin sounded like his old self again, a little lost yet honest all the same.

"...If anything bad had happened, y'know... before we left, with Sousuke... you'd tell me, right?"

In the low pressure of the cabin, Haruka suddenly found it harder to breathe.

Beneath the softness of Rin's voice, there was a sudden–– caution, or a different kind of understanding; before he could help himself, it pulled Haruka to the shadows of his house after another movie night – to the way Rin had spoken to him ( _held him_ ), when the weight of his silence had overwhelmed him and told Rin everything words could not.

(That ability to listen, to everything Haruka couldn't admit outright... Somewhere in the months that followed, he thought Rin had simply forgotten it, in the words he feared Haruka had meant instead. After all, if Rin only translated everything through his insecurities, how could he hear what Haruka really had to say?)

_Why_ , it made Haruka want to scream now, _Why would you take this exact moment to start_ listening _to me again?_

"Haru," Rin called out, but all Haruka did was pull his headphones back on.

As the sound of the laugh-track washed over the beat of his heart, he couldn't hear Rin repeating his name.

 

*

 

_On their way home, Makoto finally spoke._

_Sometimes, he'd preface the words with idle chatter, to soften whatever he was too nervous to say. But today, Makoto paid no heed to warnings before his feet came to a halt on the side of the road; a light furrow on his brow revealed Makoto was thinking, and his voice came unexpectedly sharp._

_"... What was it like?"_

_The look Makoto cast from the corner of his eye, of course Haruka caught it. The moment no longer felt like a scene from rewound tape; in the distance loomed an overcast sky, and the air felt heavy with rain._

_He thought of the curve of the road, and the gravel on the ground._

_"Rin's best friend, and your old friend... was it strange meeting him again?"_

_He thought of the chill of metal, and the heat of turquoise fire._

_"Yamazaki," Haruka heard himself respond, "Is not my friend."_

_Makoto paused. There was a rumble somewhere in the distance, too far ahead to sound like lightning; neither of them picked up the pace._

_"Well," Makoto said at last, "...Maybe now that you're both older, it wouldn't be so bad to make friends."_

_Haruka resisted the urge to close his eyes._

_At the swimming club today... both of them must have seen it: the confidence in Rin's posture, how the light finally reached his smile. It was supposed to be just a stupid race, but something had felt different––_ Rin _was different, and Makoto knew as well as Haruka did what it was that had changed._

_"...He seemed happier, Haru," Makoto said again, more softly, "Doesn't that make you happy, too?"_

_For a moment, Haruka was silent._

_Then he said, "I'm going home."_

_Whether or not it was the response Makoto had anticipated, Haruka pushed past him towards the road. It wouldn't take long for the sky to break down, and there was nothing for him to say._

_Years later, and all Yamazaki Sousuke ever brought was a headache;_

_or just questions,_

_whichever followed the other, anyway._

_That night he dreamt of phosphor. The colour of the ocean in Summer, or a shade of chlorine blue. The water around him ran dark with reeds, and as the morning dawned rainy, their whispers still crawled under Haruka's skin._

Stay out of Rin's way.

_For days there had been nothing but dullness, but waking up to a rainy morning Haruka felt_ angry _again._

_What right did Yamazaki have to corner Haruka, to accuse him of being a burden? What_ right _did Yamazaki have to act like he knew anything at all? Whatever Rin had told him, clearly, Yamazaki didn't get it–– because it was Rin who had made the choice to swim in their relay, chosen friendship, chosen––_

(me)

_––but for what?_

_Yamazaki was wrong._

_It wasn't Haruka who had the power to stand in anyone's way._

_It wasn't him who stood by Rin's side, now; who ran a hand down his arm after a race. Who faked a scowl of disapproval, just to hear the sound of Rin laughing;_

(now that I'm here

and you don't belong to me anymore)

 

*

At first he thought it was an earthquake.

Stuck in that half-moment, Haruka reached for the side of his bed, but his fingers only grasped at the cold wall. As his eyes quickly opened, what greeted Haruka was darkness, and the rumble of a trembling airplane beneath his feet.

Three a.m., still somewhere above the Pacific.

Still lost in transit, absolutely nowhere at all.

The turbulence continued to shake his seat. Trapped in the darkness, the cabin suddenly felt much smaller than Haruka remembered. The disjointed motion felt too erratic in its pace, and his breath came out like a hiccup, one sharp swallow following the next.

Somewhere nearby, he could hear the sound of trays shaking, the _click click click_ of metal jingling in haphazard patterns. It wasn't possible for Haruka to be the only person awake, but not a single voice rose above the rumble. The engines were slowly building up to a cacophony, too disjointed to feel real.

It made no sense. He'd slept through countless earthquakes, yet none had ever made him feel so stripped off all control. He automatically thought of Makoto, but somehow it only made him feel worse; after all, how could he miss the irony – whether on land or in the stratosphere, wasn't he always relying on that presence to pretend like anything about his life was under control?

_Stop it_ , he told himself, _Makoto's not here, you don't need him here, you don't need anything or anyone to––_

The cabin trembled with more vigor, this time tossing him right to the side of his seat.

Next to him, Rin hadn't so much as stirred. Feeling a familiar wave of panic welling up, Haruka's first instinct was to touch him (to awaken Rin, hold onto him, _anything_ ) but––

_don't_

_go there_

––his hands found the armrest, grasping it 'till his fingers felt numb instead.

He wouldn't let Rin see him like this. The moment he did, Haruka knew exactly what would follow: a pair of red eyes spreading wide open in the darkness, and a knee-jerk reaction where Rin would utter words Haruka never wanted to hear coming from him.

_Are you alright?_

Once upon a time it wouldn't have mattered. Once upon a time he would have allowed himself to be vulnerable, knowing Rin knew how hard it was for him. But the Rin beside him wasn't ( _your Rin_ ) the person he was before, and Haruka would rather die than become just another teammate ( _just another rival_ ) to console with pity.

Which was why it also _hurt_ ;

because earlier today Haruka had still heard something in Rin's voice, something more than a carefree mask; and he wanted so badly to cling onto the flicker of that person, but all he could give Rin these days was hostility, like further proof of the words Yamazaki had once said.

_I never would have made him do something like that._

...Rin, Makoto, it was all the same.

All Haruka amounted to was collateral damage; Yamazaki had made that very clear.

_So why are you really here?_ that tiny part of Haruka asked, loud enough even above the turbulence, _For someone out there to save you? Because you feel guilty? To prove Yamazaki wrong?_

Truth was, Haruka didn't know.

He hadn't known anything for weeks, if not months; having pushed away his friends over wounded pride, in this moment of weakness he felt more lost than ever. Trapped between a life he couldn't return to, and one that felt more alien by the hour... had he really been so naïve as to think there was anything out there waiting, something that made him feel like he belonged?

The cabin shook more violently again, and Haruka drew in a sharp breath.

But it was in that moment, that something happened; something, that later felt little more than a lucid dream. Because as the hinges still trembled and the tables rattled with _click click click_ , a soft weight fell on Haruka's arm, sliding down over his wrist.

Rin was still asleep. Haruka knew he was asleep, and yet – stirring lightly, Rin's knuckles twitched where his fingers clasped around Haruka's hand.

"Nhm," came the sound, barely a murmur as Rin's head leaned towards his shoulder, "...Ru."

A single syllable, half a name.

"...I'm here, Haru."

It was all Rin said.

Still, the cacophony in Haruka's head came to an abrupt halt. As the plane continued to tremble beneath his feet, all he could think of was the pulse of Rin's wrist, giving his heart a different pace; warm and reassuring, it flowed right into Haruka's circuitry, and calmed down his breath.

It was alright.

For the first time in days, that small, cornered part of Haruka felt _alright_. Even if it was just for this moment in time, even if it was just for now.

_Even if I don't know who we are anymore,_

_this time I'm not letting go_

By the morning Haruka might still remember the promise he made then; maybe, or maybe he did not. But the shadows of the cabin nestled around him like gauze, 'till all that remained was Rin's heartbeat; a rhythm so familiar Haruka could have recognized it in his sleep.

And so he kept on breathing.

Just breathing,

breathing,

_breathe._

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 80 % of this chapter was brought to you by _Firebird_ by Micky Blue.
> 
> Next time on the Swimming Hell channel: Sydney, Kingsford Smith.


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